


Ballad of a Rose

by svint_of_the_deep



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26317750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svint_of_the_deep/pseuds/svint_of_the_deep
Summary: Nova admits...more than she ever thought.(Just a 5am post that I've had in my head for too long. Also sorry for no tags I'm...crazy tired. Hopefully I'll remember to update but...maybe not.)





	Ballad of a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time working with any kind of trope/prompt like this! Now I can throw the handwritten copy out a window and be happy that it's finally all edited (mostly) and finished. It's a middle part in a giant two game story about my hunter.

––––

She had no idea when it happened; only when it worsened. At first, it looked like dust from her ship until it stayed long after transmat. Then, thin vines wrapped around her arms after a follow up patrol to Mars. Instead of questioning it, she hid in an old corsair base in the Dreaming City. Delayed assignments made for the best cover. The few patrolling Taken followed her to the gate, sensing something wasn’t right.

 _I’ll be alright, I promise_ , she whispered to legions; they carried her voice across the system. She closed the door and sighed, coughing into her elbow. She looked down and found the flowers.

––––

Deathsingers have few choices when their song tries to turn on them. The first option is to drain it, hiding themselves away from home and returning when their voice is no longer a memory. The second is to let the song fully consume them, rotting them from the inside. They vow complete silence until death to not sacrifice lifetimes of pain and dedication. It made death swift, but the pain excruciating. A life willingly lost for the ones it took.

When she found buds growing on the vines, she knew silence was not the solution. There was no reason to unlearn the song. That couldn’t have been the cause. But other questions could be seen as unsung melodies. Could that be it? Maybe. There was no purpose behind letting the words that fought in her mind run free. Unsaid sentences bloomed, rotted, and died in a vicious cycle that left her stumbling through this last mission. It took almost everything to drag herself out of a portal fused to a broken throne. Falling onto the marble tiles, she coughed up blood-dotted, silver petals. They were rumored to grow in the ascendant plane, but there was no record of which part. She was too terrified to react.

Plodding footsteps and a looming shadow filled the room as the portal faded into nothing. She looked up into the eye of a taken ogre, confused as to why she was on the floor. It stooped to pick up a petal, fingers too large to grip it without stumbling. She sat up, gingerly placing one into the ogre’s open palm. It was startled by the petal’s weightlessness, and cupped their other hand over it before walking away. After a few attempts, she managed to stand, supporting herself against a jeweled wall. Ghost beeped, materializing close to the exit that took too long to reach. Their blue eye blinked as they spoke.

_Incoming transmission, I delayed it as long as I could._

_Go ahead._ She limped towards a clearing, sitting down on a marble bench overlooking the city. Fresh air and a bit of sunshine couldn’t hurt. A psion climbed up beside her, placing their gun on the ground. Pleasant company.

 _I can’t decrypt all of it,_ Ghost said. _You know I’m terrible with this. I’ll set up the holo for you._

 _That’s okay. You handle the difficult hacking. I got the Hive runes no one’s used in centuries._ She gave their shell a reassuring pat as they pulled up the message. Another coughing fit stopped her hand in mid-air; this time there was more blood than petal. Her eyes adjusted to read in the late morning sun:

>the line here grows restless without your command.

>you can no longer fight this on your own.

>fresh troops can guard an abandoned citadel.

>come back home.

Brushing away the screen, she looked at the sky. This place was a prison disguised as a paradise. No way she could stay. A butterfly landed on her finger then darted to a nearby flower. The psion reached out a hand and another landed on it, wings folding out. Giving them a nod, she had Ghost lock for transmat. There was only one outcome waiting for her, and she hoped the cockpit wouldn’t turn into a garden as she flew towards it.

––––

As her ship journeyed back, a taken ogre walked through a fading portal into the dreadnaught. It delivered a bloodstained flower petal into news-starved hands before disappearing back. The ship turned cold and sank into an uneasy quiet. Blighted waves broke the silence and roared through the halls until they crashed into the Cabal. The Skyburners fell where they stood and rose up Taken.

––––

Ghost sent an update back, one hour till landing. They weren’t going to risk losing her. She was curled up on a beanbag, coughing as the vines crept around her throat and struggling to sleep. Her dreams were vivid. Fields of silver flowers bloomed under a white sun, and she walked barefoot among them in a black dress. There was one of her falling through a rift outside of time, surrounded by red flowers. She ran to someone, but woke up before she could see who it was.

––––

The Deep held no answers. Not a single point of origin. She had to live, there would be no tomorrows without her. The stakes were simple: If she died, there would be no worms, no gods, and no end to this universal game.

––––

She woke up in time to tell Ghost to turn the ship’s cloaking on before they circled to Saturn. No reason to alert everyone she landed. They transmatted her guns and armor to her room as she put on more comfortable clothes. Leggings with armor plating stitched into them were tucked into slip-on running shoes. In between coughs, she shrugged on a tank top in the same dark grey. On top of that was a heavy sweater she stitched from colony-grade feather down and worm silk back on Luna. Temperature scans put home as slightly colder than normal. That could either mean more Taken or just an off day. No way to tell from here.

Ghost dropped her on an outside deck free of any activity. The issue at hand was how to get across this chasm while avoiding prying eyes. She blinked toward the right wall, using the ridges as narrow handholds to propel her way across before jumping over. Climbing out of the Hellmouth barehanded taught her that. Sometimes she missed the moon.

Her feet didn’t touch solid ground until she was safely outside the open door. Crouching behind a pillar, she went invisible, blinking her way toward the portal. Ghost was cloaked and taking another path to her room. Holding out one arm in front of her, she went through, daring to not look back.

––––

Always half a second too late. She was always faster on the draw, quicker to react. Nova was the brightest star burning out too fast. A single petal stopped the portal from completely closing. The dark parted, but left a sliver of light where the petal rested.

––––

Every step was painful, but she kept going. One foot fell heavy in front of the other along a narrow path that stretched over the abyss. She rolled up her sleeves, revealing jet black thorns digging deep into her arms. They grew on greying vines that dulled at her touch. Where silver buds waited now bloomed silver baby roses standing still against ascendant winds. She took down her hair from its messy bun and let pollen dot her sweater as she shook out navy blue curls. The longer she stayed silent, the more petals filled her mouth. Breathing out, she watched as they circled in front of her, then away. Her throat was already raw; one more song could ruin it forever. So be it. The open horizon seemed farther away with every step, but she was determined to get there.

Even if the dark gave no answer, even if every assumption she ever had was wrong, this was the only option left. There was so much she couldn’t say without changing everything. If this would be a swan song, she would bend her voice until it broke. It was a song of her life, one that could never end in creation. Pushing her sweater sleeves down, she stepped forward and began to sing.

––––

The first deathsongs cracked planets in half at their equators and annihilated billions in minutes. But the song of creation, of life itself, was much more potent. If left unchecked, it choked the life it made seconds after its birth. The song turned on itself, causing too many possibilities that crushed every door leading to them. Harmonies that created calm oceans and gentle breezes turned into hurricanes. Flowers grew thorns that pierced every petal. Animals were smothered by their own skeletons under a sky that blinked from boiling day to frozen night.

Nova had long perfected her deathsong, but refused to use it at its intended lethality. Songs of creation were no different. Her voice turned these howling winds warm and made the white ascendant sun shine gold. Every footprint she left was covered by flower beds that bloomed in fading light. She lived her life looking up from the bottom of the worlds that couldn’t hold her.

He remembered the quiet night when she made up her mind to stay. The questions she asked in passing haunted him for reasons that never made sense. _Why are the words for love and death the same? What kind of fear causes a lack of distinction between the two? Shouldn't you want to spare who you love until there’s no one left?_ You love what you kill because its existence and eventual death were necessary for your survival. But can you love what you’d die to save every time? The question answered itself. Some of the most difficult ones often did. He started after her, following the winding path of silver.

––––

She started off slow and quiet, with the melody brood queens sing to newborn thrall too weak to bear the weight of a worm. It was where she spent most of her time; the moon welcomed her like the Light never had. The melody sharpened as she sang through her teeth. In order for her to stay on Luna, she had to earn her place in blood. Given a dull blade, she proved her worth away from the queens and against the hordes of the Deep.

She sang the skewed harmony to the deathsong she stole and of the wizard too weak to wield it. The notes crackled and burned the air around her for a second before returning to normal. Her voice rang clear as she walked, remembering how that night marked her as more than the Light she had yet to wield. Soon after it hitched, notes stumbling out of her mouth with broken petals. She whispered frantic goodbyes as they gave her a hand cannon fueled by her twisted light and a long forgotten jumpship when the City made landfall. But she was too stubborn to walk away. The lullaby reprised as she tried to protect newly hatched broods from vengeful guardians trapped under the Hellmouth. When the fight was over, she was sent away for good. Her power reached beyond the scope of this court and was needed to stall the Light elsewhere. Her tears broke the spaces between breaths. When she returned, it was already too late.

Everything and everyone that held no trace of the home she knew fell to the void. The Fallen hid in abandoned colony mines when they heard her ship fly in. Newly revived guardians she warned, and those who wanted blood for Mare Imbrium made the mistake of shooting first.

––––

Civilizations rise and fall, crumbling into themselves and forced to bear the burden of past generations on ancient foundations. Emotions are very much the same. You feel something once and bury it under the crushing weight of expectation, never acknowledging it again. But sometimes, a flaw from the first dynasty will manifest itself a hundred later. Such was the High War’s struggle with Nova.

She was underestimated for cycles. Then with no ghost and no light, she rose from nothing to become a champion. The time to pass swift judgment had passed. They could only wait for her to make a wrong move; she never did. There were whispers of a knight with twinblades who held the line in the Hellmouth mazes. There was another of a wizard who warped the world to her will. But they were only rumors, only whispers on a lunar wind.

What there was, however, were not questions of whether she would turn traitor to the Oversoul Throne, but of the chance of her power consuming her. It took deathsingers centuries to perfect one song’s melody, she did it in two cycles. Before she could truly be tested, it was too late. Disaster loomed over the lunar surface and set it aflame.

––––

Her voice slipped down to a breath. Were those phantom footsteps? Were the shadows at the edge of her vision real? No. She was sure she closed the portal.

––––

He stopped walking as her voice lowered. Did she realize she wasn’t alone? This was the one time she couldn’t come back. The orb at her side was somewhere else. Lucky, she didn’t look behind her. He kept walking.

––––

Shadows or not, she kept going. Her voice found comfort in the minor key, an opposing symphony for inducting new guardians into the City. It was a grim staccato as she told the tale of a false queen’s battle in the stars, and of a fireteam who sought her knowledge. She went in with no expectations and never came out. Her voice broke as she described the emptiness in her heart when she heard two ships break orbit without her. This dreadnaught was to be her grave at the hands of the Cabal, a hail of bullets closing another chapter in her life.

––––

When you lose someone you care for, you lose a part of yourself that will never heal. There’s two paths you can take. The first is to ignore the pain, letting it fester until it can’t be avoided. It weakens your will and you eventually succumb to it. The other is to let it flow through you, a calm tide in a thunderstorm. When it runs its course, then you can truly mourn.

The Hive lost everything in one celestial motion. One choice stood between adaptation and annihilation. They lost their only united front not soon after. Scattered to the wins and slaves to a power that could never be overruled, hope was never an option. They let that pain fuel them. Pain that would never cease.

So what’s your next move when that ancient foe moves closer to home? First blood wasn’t drawn on a crowded battlefield, but from your firstborn, broken and beaten with one foot on the edge of oblivion. Do you have a choice in how you carry that hurt? You don’t. It rips out your soul with greedy hands and burns it aloft for the world to see. It mocks your pain in plain sight and hides behind legions as it cowers.

Nova was more than a variable in a war game outside time. She was a final chance at salvation for an empire tethered to insatiable parasites. The Light-chosen and their Traveler were bound to the same logic as the Hive, though they would never admit it. If she died to the Cabal, it meant falling into the open maw of extinction. The choice was a simple one: You save who you can before the storm hits and run from the wreckage behind you. Any doubt fell to an early grave. Pulling her closer was instinct.

It would have taken hours for the phantom machine at her side to heal her; she had one left at most. Bullets tore her entire midsection, grazed her arms, and left a gash above an eye. They wouldn’t be her end, he would make sure of it. Painful whispers kept her breathing as the sounds of gunfire grew farther away. Before she blacked out, she hummed the melody that brood queens sang to newborn thrall, chitin still soft from the egg. While the Cabal line withdrew and Nova rested far from the fight, the pain caught up. The weight of a dying empire let heavy tears fall as a father remembered a lullaby he sang to a baby boy, doomed to be born on the edge of oblivion.

––––

The horizon was in her sights as she doubled over coughing. Her hands found the edge of a platform as she tucked her knees to her chest. She couldn’t feel the thorns anymore, but the vines were tighter than before. It took not thinking about the pain for her to walk into the stone clearing ahead of her. Leaning against an outcrop, she smiled. All this time and it never heard her voice. It wouldn’t have much to hear soon enough.

––––

Just a few steps away and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Nova would walk out of here or this system would bring death upon itself. She said the same to too many who thought their Light more powerful than her will. If this was love at its core, then they had admitted it while avoiding the obvious. After Akka’s death, the Deep asked a question. What can kill that which can’t be wounded? It wasn’t until he saw Nova hold multitudes in her arms and still reach out to him that Oryx found the answer.

––––

Her voice drowned out any other sound. It was all she had left. She could live a thousand lifetimes and run here every time. Her heart poured itself into her throat. She never expected to survive the Cabal. Waking up with the feeling that she should have been dead was nothing new. But the feeling of being saved by someone who healed her with borrowed time never left. There were questions under her breath when half of her hunts resolved themselves in hindsight. The ones that didn’t began with too many run-on sentences and ended with reinforcements when the room was silent. How many nights had she landed, drained from fighting, to find a docking bay that wasn’t quite empty? How many times did she sing the pain out of broken wings?

There were days where she ran to jungles on Venus and nights to empty beaches on Earth. She hid her feelings in the skeletons of cities on Mars and in asteroid belts past the Reef. Nothing would be enough if the world she wanted couldn’t hold her. But she was finite and fragile in a universe that could turn her to dust without blinking. Who could love someone who’s already gone? This life was treading the tail of an ouroboros that never ended in teeth.

She sang softly about an old Awoken tradition. When you wanted to know the role someone played in your life, you’d send a lotus to float downriver into the mist. If the flower never came back, they weren’t meant to stay. If it fought against the current and returned, they would remain. Her flower floated until it disappeared. The petals returned on the breeze, swirling around her face and reassembling themselves in her hands. It was custom to leave the flower, but the petals flew after her until she opened her palms to them. How long had the sound of clashing blades safeguarded a truth too dangerous to admit? She came close to saying it once.

––––

It was a sleepless, week long trek to end a team of guardians who fused themselves with the dark in the Black Garden. The call started with a false distress signal from deep inside that never made it to the tower. It was a race from the active gate on Mars and through half the garden, fighting legions of Vex and the team themselves. Path after path, mind after axis mind, she cleansed the land with a sharp blade and sharper words. Then it was through a broken teleporter and into the empty Vault on Venus.

She chased them through a labyrinth, watching as one hunter sacrificed themselves to kill a gorgon that survived the first assault. The fight continued as she blinked over the chasm that led to the glass throne. They brought Vex from remaining timelines to try and overwhelm the room. Before she could tether the first wave, the fireteam pinned her against the edge of a cliff. The room filled with the sound of blights tearing the tension before it went dark.

Before the darkness passed, she used the distraction to blink over the startled team and onto the far side of the room. When it did, she heard the other hunter scream before doubling over dead. A familiar sword ripped out of their stomach, blade slick with red. She cornered the remaining four with Taken at her back and the sound of teleporting Vex at their front. It wasn’t long before she couldn’t see a hand in front of her face again and the light was snuffed out. The cold wind at her back was a feeling she knew too well as she felt for the blades she carried.

Reassured of their place, she whispered low. _Oh, so you_ do _miss me. I should tell these idiots to bring out the confetti, maybe I can celebrate you catching me for once._

 _Maybe you should celebrate still being alive. They had you pinned._ She thanked the suppression fields for saving her from secondhand embarrassment. But he wasn’t always this...there would be a better word for it later.

 _I like my special occasions to be...special! So you can either help me show this team what happens when you have two left feet and ask the dark to dance, or you can watch from the sidelines. But something tells me you won’t leave me to have all the fun._ The rush of light back into the throne gave her the answer.

She separated the two warlocks and pinned them under each end of her twinblades. They tried to push her back with solar light, but only burned each other instead. Their struggle was the kindling to a deathsong that she shoved down their throats until they were nothing left but ashes.

Brushing them off, she vaulted off of a pillar directly into the Vex line, tethering them together as tendrils of dark wrapped around the group and tore the chassis apart. Before closing the portal, she whipped around to see the titan dodge a blighted wave that whipped around the room like the stories of ahamkara she heard so much about. With their fists covered in void, they tried using their sniper as a horizontal block to a sword that knew no unbreakable foe. For how much dark they held, they were still so hopeful that their Light could save them. She threw a smoke bomb at their feet, disorienting them enough so the wave washed over them, leaving nothing but armor left. The leftover Vex were easy work, and the Taken despawned once the work was done.

And then there were three. The last warlock was covered in radiolaria burns and was more arc than body. They dragged themselves toward Nova as a red aura surrounded them, voice ringing hollow against the emptiness.

 _So the monster of Mare Imbrium has a face. It speaks the speech of a broken dream that it will never be worthy of seeing –_ With a hand around their throat, they cut the warlock off. Her voice drowned out their screams as they burned themselves under their own overwhelming dark and her soulfire.

 _I am the knight who haunts the tortured depths and the wizard who heals the broken Song. You wet your lips with blood you’ll never drink and toast victories to the beginnings of consequences you’ll never see. Look at you, so desperate to be the brainless pawn of a dark that preys on your desperation. There is no salvation for the soulless._ The room grew lighter with thin beams of Venusian sunlight as their lifeless body fell down into the dark. Slowly, she walked through the height of the throne, taking in the dim view before laying down.

She was exhausted, and the cold floor of the glass throne felt good against aching muscles. The rest of the details were foggy at best. She said something about doing all the work. He replied with how she always went off on her own to hide the best fights. It was impossible to get up, so she rolled into arms that pulled her too close to care. A question that almost flowed off of her tongue if she hadn’t bit down first. Falling asleep in arms she wished she could always run into.

––––

Nova wasn’t the only one who bit their tongue. Venus didn’t feel like the right time to say it. No time did. But waiting too long meant losing a future they both deserved. Actions always spoke louder than the words between them.

––––

Something was off. She took two steps backward before turning around to check the portal...and walked into open arms she was terrified to take for granted. Never double checking was an unbreakable habit. Her voice was a hoarse whisper that cut through the already torn tension.

_I left the door open again, huh?_

_I opened another one._

She looked up, one eyebrow raised and arms crossed squarely against her chest. It strained her throat to laugh, but she did it anyway. _You were always a terrible liar. Don’t worry, I won’t tell._ She didn’t notice the vines breaking off into dust.

_Depends on the lie._

_You wouldn’t get far. Besides, I lie enough for us both._ She blinked on top of the outcrop and sat down, staring out at the light ahead of her.

Why were the words not coming out? He regretted giving her the opening, but there was no taking it back. _Then lie to me._

She whipped around, shock painting her face. It was something about the way he said it that caught her attention. _Absolutely not. No way, nuh-uh. I’m not waking up tomorrow having to relearn the world because you accidentally said the wrong word and almost nuked a few planets._

If eyes were daggers, she would’ve killed him instantly. He almost dared her to try. _Key word being almost._

Rolling her eyes didn’t suffice. She always hated how matter-of-fact he was, but loved his voice just the same. She was thankful he couldn’t see how serious she failed miserably at being. _The sky. On Mars. Was on fire. Oh, and half the Hellmouth had to be rebuilt because the Moon almost imploded. You know the City was a bit shocked when night lasted...a little too long. The last thing I need is to deal with another ritual that can only be stopped with disgusting amounts of ontological firepower._

_And? Is everything not back to how it was before?_

_No, those poor Vex won’t simulate a sunrise anymore. They’ll start shooting their own reflections before we know it._ She rolled onto her stomach to face him, face buried in her hands. Her ice colored eyes peeked out from the spaces between her fingers. It was impossible to hide a smile. _You’re insufferable, you know that?_

 _Now you’re the terrible liar._ He gently replaced one of her hands with his own, and she rested her cheek in a rough, sword-scarred palm. Her smile might just make a broken heart beat again.

 _Depends on the lie._ She traced circles on his other hand, taking a moment too long as she thought of what to say. _But if you were here for lies, you wouldn’t be standing here at all. So...tell me the truth. Why come back for me anyway?_

The truth. He looked down at the hand that held his own. Pale blue, nearly white, with cream-colored waves that washed over it. A thousand systems ago, there was an ocean planet that looked just like her skin. It hurt too much to meet her eyes. Galaxies rose and fell since the fall of Fundament, and in that time he had an answer for everything. She left him speechless. It was his voice, that shattered and healed her world in the same breath, that broke the silence between them.

_Nova. There is one truth that fits the scope of everything that time touches and it still doesn’t quantify you. You bend this system to how you see fit easily as breathing. It’s only natural that you fill the space between heartbeats just the same. How do I move on from holding the stars themselves in my arms to facing the possibility of watching them fade as I go on living?_

He couldn’t stomach losing her. She kissed the palm that held her cheek while he found the words to say. They almost didn’t come. _Your song speaks for itself, and every word I say feels too small. Why would I not go back? There is no ocean without waves, no death without life, and no love without you._

Her heart thought faster than her brain and both could have never predicted the outcome. There was too much to say and no right way to say it. He was so much more to her than words could describe. But she tried anyway.

_When I decided to stay, my heart was already prepared for disaster. Every home has been a study of how to never hold anything close. So I didn’t, until I realized that it was unavoidable. I’d bring down the heavens until the sky became the sea if it meant ending this pain that plagues you. You are more than the impossible questions, this means to a ceaseless end. I was born into this world to guard the empty grave of a dying war cry. There’s no honor in pretending to believe in it. And why would I? They can keep their dead logic and crumbling thrones, it’s selfish. Love is a cathedral without the absolutes that burden us. We can leave them outside these walls. Let me sing you another song in the forgiving dark about how everything clawing at my soul can only be said like...this._

Propping up on one arm, she closed her eyes and kissed him. Could she have done this on Venus? Yes, but those thousand what-ifs vanished behind her eyes. He slung one arm under her knees and the other across her back in one fluid motion to pick her up. This was the one time she let herself be greedy and clasped her hands behind his neck before going in again. The last few petals circled away from her in the breeze, fading away in flashes of Light.

––––

If it were any other deathsinger, he’d be coughing up blood and cursing fate from deep in his throne right now. But the Light’s protection benefits those it would rather it. Nova was feather-light in his arms and her tongue tasted like the void at the far edges of this galaxy. The Ecumene homeworld had flower-filled greenhouses from everywhere their ships could reach. Her lips were softer than any petal. He silently thanked the stars that collided to make her. Maybe one day they would hear.

––––

Unwillingly, she pulled away first, hiding her face behind a curtain of blue curls. _I forgot to breathe._ She gingerly lifted it with the back of her hand and smiled, revealing a pale pink blush that crept across her cheeks.

_I have that effect on people._

_You did not just..._ she facepalmed, sighing before going on. _If they don’t breathe again, that’s called murder. And it definitely doesn’t happen like that._ Her voice was muffled from burying her face in his shoulder. _But since you’re feeling so benevolent, I’ll take living. Are you gonna...put me down?_

 _Because you asked?_ He started walking, looking back at the horizon one last time, then down at her. _No._

 _I’ll be okay, come on!_ She widened her eyes and pretended to be sad. Secretly, she hoped it would work. The eye roll she received proved otherwise.

_I’m not losing you to a misstep._

_Hmph. Fine, I’ll stop. You’re lucky you’re comfy._ Her eyes were narrowed as she gazed at him from behind a sweater sleeve. _Being king doesn’t make you totally right y’know._ The look on his face was priceless.

Was she kidding? She had to be...right? _No. Ascending to godhood does._

She thought of calling his bluff, but the lazy debate was the path this time. _See, I’d believe you, but there’s no divine right of always being right that I can think of. How’d you manage that one?_

_Rewrite the natural order, raze a few worlds, chase after a hunter with a habit of staying hidden...the usual. What makes you so bold to ask?_

_Who, me?_ She twirled a few curls in between her fingers as she spoke. _I only like learning from the best. Normally I don’t brag, but I did become ascendant, constantly outwit a paracausal city that wants me dead, and manage to seduce a god all by myself. You know, the usual._

He cursed under his breath as she laughed. It was the smallest victories that made her the happiest. _Checkmate_ , she whispered into her sleeve, then stopped, realizing she wasn’t that quiet. The voice that came out of her blended in too well with the wind. _Oh no._

 _This isn’t a game you can easily win, little light. Not this time._ His voice was more snarl than word. But he stopped when she sat up in his arms, holding his face in her hands. It would’ve been so easy to get lost in her eyes if her voice wasn’t already like that of...what did humans call them? Sirens? That had to be it.

_If only I had to worry about winning. You keep your heart so open, all I had to do was wait for the right time to jump. Give your girl a break, Oryx. I tripped into a battle to find you, no telling what I might fall for._

Two steps and they would’ve been through, but he tried to kiss the smile off her face instead. It didn’t work, but her laugh was well worth it. When that portal closed another one opened, and they were outside the door to her room. She yawned, stretching as far as she could without falling.

 _Wait a minute._ She looked around like she forgot something. _Wasn’t there a battalion of Skyburners I was supposed to deal with when I got –_

He avoided her eyes as she looked at him. _Seriously? No you wouldn’t. You...didn’t...right?_

 _All of them._ He could feel the cold pull of void in the air as she spoke.

_I asked nicely. Begged. Pleased. No. More. Psions. What do I get in return? More psions to trip over when I go out. Can’t have anything nice on this ship._

_Would you rather catch an ogre again?_ What a disaster...one that he’d rather not repeat. But decent fights were few and far between.

 _And watch you almost fall flat on your face trying to chain it?_ She remembered it all too well. While it was terrifying in the present, it was hilarious after. Definitely not his proudest moment.

_Let’s keep the psions behind a door and call it a day._

She blinked out of his arms, opening the door. _You can call it a day, I’ll call it an accident waiting to happen._ Before he knew it, she was around the corner and yelling down an inside hall. _But that doesn’t mean I’ll sort it out today!_

When she didn’t slam the door or come back out, he went inside, letting the door close behind him. She sat cross-legged on her bed, sweater folded on a nearby chair. Her eyes poured over holos of mission reports from the City. Seeing him in her peripherals, she pulled the covers back on the unoccupied side.

 _Forgot I had a bit to catch up on. I’ll be done soon if you want to stay._ She looked up, cocking her head to the side as she figured out what was wrong. _Well, I haven’t moved and you haven’t left. What is it?_

_You’ve been awake for how long? A week now? No matter, you need rest._

She responded while scrolling through another one, blocked with text. _I’ll rest when I’m dea– done with this batch. Promise._

 _Nova._ Really? The serious voice? The holo on her left stuttered and didn’t go back to normal.

 _Okay, okay, fine. Just give me a minute._ She shut down the two functioning screens and shoved their small projector in a nightstand drawer. The ceiling light shut off with a wave of her hand. _But only if you stay_ , she said while blinking past him, getting the hall sconces.

Something caught her off guard, and she didn’t turn around. With her back to the bed, she double blinked backwards and laughed when he managed to catch her. Hunter’s instinct was never wrong.

They both fell into bed as his voice echoed against the walls. _There’s nothing that could make me leave._

 _Good. Hey, do me a favor?_ She could barely get the words out without yawning, laying her head on his chest.

_Hm?_

_If anyone so much as knocks, wake me up so I can take the first shot._ She closed her eyes as he pulled up the covers. The ship would take too long to warm up.

_With your luck, you’ll miss and let the psions in._

She thought about drawing a golden gun to prove him wrong, but decided to let him pull her closer instead. _I’ll never live it down. Good thing I never miss._ It was only a moment before the hum of ancient engines and the heartbeat that built them lulled her to sleep.

––––


End file.
